


I Would Even Wait All Night

by fiarra



Category: One Direction (Band), Radio 1 RPF
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-05
Updated: 2012-12-05
Packaged: 2017-11-20 08:42:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/583415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fiarra/pseuds/fiarra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Louis gets sick and everyone is away, Greg has to go take care of him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Would Even Wait All Night

**Author's Note:**

  * For [blathering_kat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/blathering_kat/gifts).



> Happy Birthday Manda!!!
> 
> Thank you to @eloiserummaging for looking this over. Any remaining mistakes are my own.

Greg is just settling in with a bag of crisps on his sofa to watch X Factor when his phone nearly vibrates off the end table next to him. In the ensuing scramble to try and catch his phone before it falls to its death on the wood floor, most of the bag of crisps ends up strewn across his lap, so he is mostly annoyed when he looks at the screen to read “Grimmy.”

“What,” he answers flatly, futilely trying to pick crumbs out of the fibers of his sweater.

“Greg! Light of my life and king of my heart! How are you this evening?”

Greg rolls his eyes. “Fine until some stupid wanker decided to call me and almost killed my phone. What do you need?”

“Right, well...whatever. I need a favor?”

“Does it require moving from my very comfortable sofa?” There’s an awkward pause and Greg just sighs. “Out with it then.”

“Well...you see, Harry’s just called me. He’s had to go away to his mum’s for the weekend, I guess there’s something happening for Gemma and he absolutely couldn’t miss it...” Greg clears his throat impatiently, interrupting the beginning of Nick’s ramble. “Okay, fine. Louis is sick, Harry is away, the rest of the lads are on holiday, and I’m off to a DJ gig in Manchester five minutes ago, so can you please go take care of him until Harry is back on Sunday?”

Greg lets the words sink in. “But why does Louis need a minder? He’s well grown now, isn’t he?”

“Apparently, the last time Haz left Louis alone in his flat for more than a day, he nearly burnt the place down trying to make toast. It’s a thing.”

“Fine, but you owe me.”

“Whatever, James. I know you’ve wanted that for ages now. Think of this as your chance.” Nick makes a bizarre slurping kissy noise into the phone and hangs up.

Ten minutes later finds Greg bundling up some clothing in a small overnight bag. The truth is, Grimmy isn’t far from wrong with his parting comment. He’s been more than a little fascinated by Louis since they co-hosted on the radio before the Teen Awards. They’d been so in sync for those two hours, laughing at each other’s jokes like it had been planned from the start and those five minutes of watching Louis’s fingers dance across the keyboard were particularly good for Greg. Of course, it’s not like he has any reason to ever see Louis outside of work, so he’s mostly just had to endure a solid month of everyone at Radio 1 teasing him about his crush. At least they’ve been exchanging texts every so often, so hopefully it won’t be totally weird when he shows up at Louis’s door. 

This is the worst idea ever.

\- - -

The door to Louis’s flat should not be intimidating, and yet, Greg is having a hard time making himself ring the bell. He’s been standing here at least 5 minutes, gotten a funny look from the neighbor and is just about to turn around and go home when his phone beeps in his pocket.

**Are you there yet? Harry will murder me if you aren’t. Do you really want my blood on your conscience?**

**I can assure you, I would not sleep any less soundly. You owe me, Grimshaw**

He pockets his phone and rings the bell with a sigh. There is a shuffling noise behind the door as the latch is turned and it swings open to reveal a very tired looking Louis Tomlinson. He is completely wrapped in his duvet; to the point where all Greg can focus on is his disheveled hair and bare feet. He’s still beautiful.

“Oh. It’s you,” he says.

“Er...I could not be me...if you preferred?” Greg is starting to feel exceptionally awkward.

“No, no, it’s fine. Come in, you’re letting all the heat out. It’s just that normally Harry sends Nick and I just spent half an hour preparing myself for...that.”

The door swings shut behind them and Greg fidgets in place as Louis shuffles away to curl up on the soda.

"Well, I suppose you'll do. I'd offer you a cuppa, but I'm not really feeling up to it."

Greg wanders into the living room after Louis and takes in the chaos. There are takeout containers and tissues all over the coffee table, as well as several mugs that possibly contained tea at some point. The tv is playing the football match and Louis has already switched to giving it his blurry-looking attention.

"And suddenly I see why they sent me," Greg mutters.

"Hmm? Did you say something?" Louis asks distractedly from his nest.

"No! Nothing! I think I'll fix myself something to eat, want anything?" There is an awkward silence from the couch. "--you do have something to eat somewhere?"

"I might have some biscuits somewhere," comes the sulky reply.

"I'll just go out to the store then." Louis shifts to shoot him a sunny smile and it almost makes Greg feel better about things. Almost.

He comes back with some tins of soup and sandwich supplies to an empty couch. Figuring that Louis has fallen asleep, Greg sighs and gets started on throwing things out. He's just finished washing the mugs when he hears Louis coughing somewhere down the hall. He sounds really terrible, all raspy and hacking and Greg really does feel bad for him.

"Can I get you some tea, love?" he calls out.

"Yes please. Yorkshire's in the cupboard, no sugar," comes the reply.

Greg switches the kettle on and prepares two cups; one no sugar, the other with a dash of milk and sugar for him. After tucking a package of biscuits into the pocket of his hoodie, he grabs the mugs and carefully makes his way down the hall to the bedroom. Inside the room, Louis is curled up in the center of his bed, looking small. A large TV on the wall opposite his bed is turned to some music channel. It's playing One Direction's newest video and Greg grins.

"So is this a popstar thing? Lying around watching yourself on the giant TVs you all keep in your bedrooms?" he teases.

Louis glares at him. "Not another word, James. I was only waiting for my tea anyway."

"Well your tea has arrived, your majesty. I brought you some biscuits too, if you're feeling up for food."

Louis just makes a grabby hands motion at him, so Greg walks over to leave the tea and biscuits on the nightstand. He turns, intending to go find something of his own to watch in the living room when a hand reaches out to grab the bottom edge of his hoodie, anchoring him in place.

“Stay?”

Greg looks around the room pointedly. “And where exactly do you expect me to sit?”

“I dunno, this bed seems plenty big enough for both of us,” Louis says, letting go to pat the space next to him. “I could use a cuddle anyway.”

Greg makes a show of looking put-out, but then sets his tea down to settle on the bed. Louis immediately latches onto his arm and hooks one of his duvet-wrapped legs over Greg’s.

“There, that’s much better,” Louis says, sounding satisfied. Greg brings one hand up to pat at Louis’s head, where it has settled on his shoulder. Louis smiles up at him through his lashes and then reaches for the remote, switching to the DVD setting. Greg snorts softly and rolls his eyes as the menu for Grease shows up on the screen.

“Bit predictable there, Tomlinson.”

Louis just bites his shoulder and presses play.

\- - -

When Greg wakes up, it’s dark and he feels stifled both by all his layers of clothing and by Louis, who has managed to wrap himself around Greg’s entire torso. Greg shifts uncomfortably and then freezes as he registers the fact that Louis is also only wearing a pair of worn-looking boxer shorts. It becomes increasingly evident that he needs to get out of this bed before he has some sort of panic attack. However, when he tries to shift from under Louis’s arm, he finds himself being gripped tighter. There’s a sleepy mumble from his shoulder and then Louis opens his eyes to look up at him, and Greg stops breathing for a second.

“Going somewhere, James?” Louis asks. His voice is rough with sleep and from all the coughing he’s being doing. It’s maybe really working for Greg.

“Um...no?” Louis hums and shifts to nuzzle against Greg’s jaw with his nose.

“Good.” 

Louis closes his eyes and starts to drift off again. Greg shrugs to himself and cuddles Louis closer. He’ll deal with it in the morning.


End file.
